


The Listener

by insertcleveruserhere



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, F/M, Major character death - Freeform, Might have a smut part 2, Seriously Angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 12:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13388154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertcleveruserhere/pseuds/insertcleveruserhere





	The Listener

The Listener would not have accepted the title had she known what was to come.

Perhaps she should not think as such. She knew that she had no actual choice when it came to the matter, as she was probably a pawn in Sithis’ game long before her family grew to prominence. 

So, if she had a choice in the matter, when she shared the coffin of the Night Mother, shared the warmth of her ancient bones and was bestowed the title of Listener while Cicero begged for the Night Mother to hear his pleas, and knew of the great burden that would come with it, she would have refused.

Astrid resented the Listener, Artemis, all the more after she was named the sacred vessel for the Night Mother’s will, but Artemis, rather, resented the burden that came with the title. 

Cicero was the Keeper. He kept the Night Mother well, and he kept the Brotherhood together, as was his job. He was the keeper of all things, and took his role as serious as murder. He retained the history of the Brotherhood, and he was the keeper of all, with the exception of his mind.

The responsibilities of being Listener were nearly as literal as those of the Keeper.

She listened to the Night Mother, accepted the contracts and did as she bade. But, past that, she could hear her brothers and sisters, hear their very existence on a deeper, more intimate level than any of them had ever wanted to experience. She knew when the snow brushed their cheek, or they ran scarce of breath as they fled from the guards, or merely hungered and thirsted. And those who wanted someone dead, truly felt the blood boil with the desire for blood to be shed, she could hear the pleas. From there, the Night Mother would do her part to ensure the contract was initiated and carried out.

She was the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, of the Night Mother, of the people was bound to serve and those she was bound to kill.

The title of Listener was simple, but held much more responsibility than any of the others could even begin to comprehend. 

She could have laughed at it all. She had been a noble woman, back in Cyrodiil. She had been the daughter of the Emperor’s bodyguard, her brother served under Legate Rikke, until the dreaded day they were betrayed. An assassin snuck into her window, and took her wedding finger, promising to lead her to safety. They shared a night of passion before he sent her on her way to Skyrim, claiming her family was dead and he had to return her mutilated finger to his employer.

He had refused to disclose who hired him and who he worked for.

She could feel the fear, first. She’d all but hurled herself past the guards and down the stairs of the tower after she was ambushed, unsure if she would even survive the next half hour. The faux Gourmet hat falls away, the gown becoming a nuisance, and she rushes back to the abandoned shack where it all began, her armor stowed away there. 

She doesn’t feel the fear then, as she buckles her leathers as quickly as her fingers would allow, throwing her bow over her back and the daggers on her sides. She knew that her Family was alive, they were all still alive, and she feared that there was going to come a time, very, very soon, where she would not be able to save them. 

Armor and weapons back in her possession, she found her way back to Katla’s Farm, stole a horse and ran away from Solitude as quickly as the horses legs could carry her. The boy there yelled after her, throwing curses left and right, and was sure to awaken his master. She’d thought of asking Astrid if they could take a few orphans in, to teach them their trade and keep them out of the cold, but now, now she was more worried about the state of her Family than ever. 

She almost feels sorry for the mount, but instead, only feels the fear her Family begins to feel halfway down her way to Falkreath. She swears, only pressing the mount on further, and prays to Sithis that she finds them before the Oculatus does.

She was going to gut the traitor. Take their organs and paint the walls with them. She was going to find them, and she was going to kill them, Sithis’ will be damned. 

She feels Festus fall first. 

'I surrendered, tried to reason, held my hands up, and they shoot. Let the arrows loose, and the death is quick. Too much left to do, should’ve been the Listener, should’ve apologized to the Listener. Forgive me, Artemis.'

Her chest clenches and the horse whinnies as she realizes she’s balled her fists around its white strands of hair. She apologizes under her breath, both to the horse and to Festus, because he fell and she, their Listener, their Protector, because the Keeper had fallen at her hand, had not been there for him. She’s passing Falkreath, and all but throws herself off the horse as she nears the Sanctuary. 

Immediately, the horse runs in the opposite direction, but she pays it little mind. Shadowmere was somewhere, but she didn’t have time to call him.

Gabriella falls next.

'Flame curling around my skin, burning, and I knew, I felt that this was going to happen, and I let myself fall, curling myself onto the table as the Oculatus members snarled and ensure the Sanctuary would fall. But I saw, and I know that I will not survive, but there will be Three who walk free.'

She slices the Oculatus members down, daggers in each hand, tears stinging her eyes, and little more than pure rage and adrenaline guiding her hand. She refused to fall, ensuring that they would all fall for destroying her Family.

Veezara falls then.

'Let the Oculatus fall.'

She gasps, as if she was coming up for air as she kills the men who murdered Veezara. A tear falls, and she presses on amidst the flame and soot and begged Sithis to ensure no one else would fall. 

She slits a man’s throat and turns back to exploit the exposed part of his armor on his hip. He cries out, but she doesn’t hear him, the blood pounding in her ears.

She watches as Arnbjorn falls, and she’s almost thankful he’s a wolf when he does it. She hears him cry out, and that alone is painful enough, but she couldn’t have lived with herself if he cried out to Astrid, though she was unsure if their leader still stood.

Artemis didn’t have time to consider that any of these people, along with Nazir and Babette, wherever they were, could very well have been the traitor, and as she throws the knife into the gullet of a soldier, she doesn’t particularly care. 

She steps into Gabriella’s study, Babette’s laboratory, Festus’ workplace, whatever it may have been titled, and nearly sobs then as she sees Gabriella, her dear, dear friend, curled onto her table amidst her scrolls and books, in the fetal position, dead as her victims. 

Oh, she was going to kill the traitor. She was going to ensure they had a long, slow death that lasted days on end and made them beg for their lives, for her forgiveness, for Sithis to take them to the Void. 

When she bursts into the mess hall, she sees Nazir, barely staving off a guard in the common resting area, and acts on instinct. 

“Still alive, Husband?” She greets, not hesitating to sink her dagger into the skull of the soldier, kicking his knees out and pulling her knife away from the fallen. Nazir coughs, as if he doesn’t believe his wife truly stands before him, and shakes his head.

“I don’t know how much longer if you hadn’t shown up.” Again, he shakes his head, as if banishing some unpleasant thought, “But, you’re here now.”

For a split second, Artemis almost looks offended, “You thought I betrayed the Family?”

Nazir looks torn but coughs, managing the answer, “Look, if we get out of here alive, we can discuss that later. But right now, we need to get out before this entire place collapses on us.”

She wouldn’t have left Nazir alone, had she had a choice. The Night Mother beckoned her, willed her to hide in the coffin with her to stave off the flame. As soon as the iron doors were locked around her, she heard Nazir begin to panic, and she did the same. 

Something fell, something else broke, and she heard the screams of her family. 

Well placed bite, must have been Artemis who betrayed, must have been. I’ve known the rest for too long, far too long to have had them betray me. Forgive me, Artemis, and bring vengeance to the traitor, Sweet Mother. 

Babette does not die, at least not while Artemis is awake.

The Night Mother beckons her to sleep, and her eyes hang low, and she forgets, just for a moment, that she is in danger.

When she awakens, though, panic settles. She awakens to Nazir’s voice, he throwing slurs to Babette as he attempts to pry the coffin open. She gazes upon the Night Mother, pulling herself away and pushing her back against the door. She tried to scream, to call to what remained of her Family, but words refused to form in her throat.

The Night Mother whispers to her, promising Astrid was still alive. Promising that there was still hope for the Family. But she just wanted to be held by her husband again, to escape the duties of Listener and to have her Family back. She could scarce think of anything but how demeaning their deaths had been, and again, rage began to settle in. 

Finally, after what seems like an age, Nazir manages to free her from the coffin, catching her with ease. She coughs, fingers hardly capable of closing around the Redguard garbs as she forces herself to look at him. 

“Nazir.” She manages, the smallest hint of a smile pulling at her lips, “My love.” Artemis pulls herself closer to him, tears threatening to spill over. He was alive. He was alive, and that was all that mattered to her then. 

“Sh, you’ve been through a lot, foolish girl. You need to lie down a while.” Babette hangs back, watching somberly as Nazir brings them both to the ground, holding his wife to his chest, “Sometimes I think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” He presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, and Babette can see the horror that flashes across his eyes, “By Sithis, you know I don’t mean that. I’ll follow you ‘till I’m dust in the wind.”

He thinks that the promise is lost on her, but she manages to heave her eyes open, and pull herself up into a sitting position.

“Astrid.” She says, “Astrid is alive.”

Nazir looks to Babette, who’s immediate response is to pull away, throwing up all of her defenses, because she didn’t know. But, Nazir helps her stand, and slowly, but surely, Artemis leads the two remaining Family members to their leader.

'Family, forgive me.'

Artemis knows what’s to come before it actually comes.

'Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.'

Guilt and rage pull at her heart, but all she feels is pity as she sees Astrid lying there, more burns covering her body than there was skin, black clumps of blood pooling from her stomach at an alarming rate. Before Artemis can say anything, she realizes that Astrid, her leader, her mistress, her light, is already dead to her. She screams, a dark husky sound that echoes through the dead halls as she throws herself alongside Astrid, crying and shaking her head and not believing anything she was being told.

“Thank Sithis.” Astrid manages to say between coughs, “You’re alive.”

She decides to play along, to let Astrid confess and explain herself. Artemis reaches to touch her but ultimately pulling away entirely, “Astrid.” The name passes little below a whisper, and rings hollow through the small cave. Babette grabs Nazir’s arm as he tries to approach Artemis, shaking her head and holding him back.

“Hush.” Astrid tries, “There is much I have to say…and not enough time. You are the best of us, and I nearly killed you.”

As if the dam had been broken, Astrid admits to everything. The deal with the Oculatus, the betrayal to both the Family and to Artemis, and the confession that she only wanted things to return to normal, to the way they were before Astrid recruited Artemis into their Family.

Artemis is silent a moment before hardly uttering, “Sithis will judge you in the Void. I pity you.”

Astrid coughs, shaking her head as wildly as possible, “No! No, don’t pity me. I deserve whatever the Dread Lord has planned.”

And now, Astrid was the Black Sacrament, the very thing they were bound to. With a shaky hand and hot tears stingy her cheeks, Artemis grabs the Blade of Woe, and just as the blade is about to slice across Astrid’s neck, she whispers, “Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” Babette claims, “Strangely, I feel only pity for her.” 

Artemis turns back, murder written across her face, and says nothing. She shuts her eyes for a moment, and Nazir considers running to her, but she stands again, walking past the sand stalker and the un-child wordlessly. 

By the time Nazir and Babette have regained the courage to return to the Sanctuary, Artemis has turned away from the Night Mother.

“So…I suppose this is the end.” Nazir says, looking around the empty shell of the once-home they had all shared. 

“Not exactly.” Babette perks up at that, “The Night Mother spoke to me again. I’m to speak to Motierre in Whiterun.”

Nazir’s eyes widen like saucers, “That means…”

“The contract is still on.” She nods.

Word reaches far and wide of the murder of the Emperor, on his own ship to boot, Captain Maro’s unfortunate spill into the waters of Solitude, and then, though lesser known, Motierre’s murder at the Bannered Mare in Whiterun. She receives her payment, and over the course of the following months, Delvin Mallory’s men renovate their new home, their new Sanctuary. 

Nazir was the one who had discovered Cicero’s body, already in the Torture Chambers, beaten practically beyond recognition. The only reason he knew he was the jester was because of the ridiculous hat he had insisted on wearing. Artemis stepped into the chamber, looking for Nazir, and saw the mutilated Keeper, and only said, “He hurt my Family.” Nazir was also the one to dispose of what remained of the fool.

They wait until the repairs are finished to bring in more raw recruits, bringing in a pair of orphans, Sissel and Aventus Aretino, an Imperial man by the name of Valerius Rey, Muiri, and a High Elf woman by the name of Senri, a former slave. The children had come to call their Listener Mama, and Nazir their Father, and the others held their Listener in the highest respect. 

Sissel’s father had beaten her when she lived in Rorikstead and he still lived. He had fallen after a bandit raid, an arrow to the neck, as Artemis would lead all to believe. Sissel knew, and was more than willing to join her new mother in the Brotherhood, especially as she held the truth that her father had killed her first mother tight. She stood fast in learning her magic trade, Artemis fueling it with every text she could find on the subject.

Aventus Aretino had already had his fair share of dealings with the Dark Brotherhood, and had been ecstatic to learn of his ability to join. He was a natural born killer, and was learning the traditional Redguard means of fighting, thanks to his father. 

Valerius Rey was a man of refined, yet simple tastes. Knowing him was difficult, as he reminded Artemis so of her dear friend Gabriella, but she would never let him know that. He was a charmer, an excellent killer with a bit of a twisted sense of humor, though he hardly ever boasted over his conquests.

Muiri had taken Valerius as a lover, and joined the Brotherhood, though she did not kill as often as the others. She made them poisons, worked well with Babette, and did well in her stead when the unchild was working on a contract.

The high elven woman only went by the name of Senri, and her skill with a bow was only rivaled by that of Artemis’. She was a quiet woman, who spoke little of her time before the Brotherhood, but found confidence in their Listener. She is named the new Keeper of the Night Mother, and took pride in her work, proud to serve.

They were broken, and little, but they were family.

And they would not fall, so long as they stood as one.


End file.
